The Black Years
by greenleaf-in-bloom
Summary: Severus Snape - after school, before The Fall.
1. The Fold

The Black Years Part One Rated PG Overall Rated PG-13  
  
My school years were far worse than my years as a Death Eater, or as a spy. It was not Potter but Black that made this reality - he was the one who sat back and laughed, who pushed me against walls, who called me awful names and knew so much about me. He was not the one I scorned, but the one I feared. My teenage years were the Black Years, and I think that I'll always know them as such.  
  
I hated him because I was afraid of him. He and I could have been friends, I think, had he been in Slytherin. Much as I dislike admitting this - indeed, I never have aloud - he would have made an excellent candidate for Slytherin House. He was cunning, and ambitious, he wanted to be known, but he also wanted the friendship of James Potter, something not easily gained, and he didn't know that his friendship was also something sought for.  
  
I hated him because he thought me less than him. He may have hated his family, his pure-blood, honorable family, but he was exactly as condescending as Regulus was, or as his father was. My father always pounded into me how I must uphold the family name when I was a child, how important and influential I could become. I could have. I know I could have.  
  
Instead of choosing to take the position at the Ministry I had once wanted so much, within two weeks after I graduated Hogwarts I chose the Dark Mark. I chose illusionary power over true influence, but the illusionary power did allow me to request one person to be killed, and that was not Sirius Black or James Potter, who had made my life hell. It was my father.  
  
Lucius Malfoy was the one who killed him. I watched from feet away, covering my mother with my wand so she would not interfere, trying to ignore the way my stomach twisted when she screamed at us to stop, when she begged me to stop them. I came very close before remembering what had happened for as long as I could remember. My father would drink himself into a rage, and abuse my mother brutally before me.  
  
In the end, after my father was dead, they also had to kill my mother, because she recognized us. I didn't watch her death, instead choosing to stumble away and be violently sick in the black rosebushes.  
  
I knelt, weakly wiping my mouth on the back of my hand, closing my eyes against the flash of green light and the reality that was falling in pieces about my shoulders. I had tried to save my mother. I had tried to avenge the years of her hurt, and instead I had lead her to her death.  
  
Lucius Malfoy found me shaking there and took my arm, his thin fingers tightening around my new, raw Dark Mark, pulling me to my feet. He reached up with his other hand, pulling my mask off, and then his own, so that he could stare me in the eyes, and then released me.  
  
"You'll do," he said appraisingly after a moment. "Welcome to the Fold, Severus."  
  
Before, I had always been 'boy'.  
  
The next week, I literally ran into Black down Knockturn Alley. Lucius had helped procure me a house and I was trying to find the proper potions for a particular poison the Dark Lord wanted. I didn't think to ask then what Black was doing there. He sneered at me. "I saw in the paper about your parents being killed, Snivellus, did you lead that raid?"  
  
"What do you mean?" I snarled, trying to control the way my stomach had suddenly lurched, trying to control the small breakfast I had eaten. I wasn't sure whether he actually believed that, and I didn't want him to know he had struck home. "Are you afraid that I'm going to end up pointing my wand the wrong way and killing your little brother on one of these raids?" I had seen Regulus, the proper Slytherin Black, at the Death Eater meeting the other night.  
  
Black went white as death and seized the front of my robes. He was still a good three inches taller than me. He shoved me against the wall, and the bricks bit into the back of my head. I felt a trickle of blood. He held me by the upper arms there for a long time, and I fought a wince - the Dark Mark hurt for almost a month after burning, Lucius had told me. Then he released me, still pale and breathing hard. I stood there stiffly, uncertain.  
  
"Don't you dare talk about Regulus," he hissed at me. "If you so much as touch him. . .I swear I'll kill you."  
  
His eyes shone with fervor, and I believed him, but I couldn't leave it at that.  
  
"I've heard that one before, Black. So far you've done a bang-up job."  
  
"I'd hate to see James save your sorry ass again, Snape. He might not be there next time."  
  
I felt my teeth gritting so hard I was sure they'd be duller by the time Black left. "And I'd hate to see him come to save me, too - you never know what might happen when he's around me. I know someone who'd pay a very large price for his head, right now, you know."  
  
Suddenly Black's wand was out and pointed at my heart.  
  
"I don't like being threatened, Snape. You'd better hope you don't see me again before Voldemort -" I'm fairly sure I winced at the name despite myself, just that much was a reminder of the Mark and the pain, "- tans your worthless hide for cowardice, or I'll do it for him."  
  
Two weeks later, I got word that Potter and Evans were getting married by listening to Regulus' spy report. The Dark Lord would wait to make his next move. Potter had escaped him once, and we vowed we would not let him do so again.  
  
We would kill Evans first, and I felt a strange stab of guilt at knowing this. I suppressed it quickly. 


	2. The Rings

The Black Years  
  
I was punished when they escaped.  
  
We all were - but I was in charge of the group that fell apart. We were the young ones, the new ones, and Regulus Black was among them, and even as I lay shuddering on the ground from the afteraffects of the curses, of the pain, I was more frightened when I heard him scream. I was more frightened of what his brother could do if he thought me at fault, if he saw Regulus' pale face.  
  
There were only two women in the Fold, and one of them, the one whose name I did not know, pulled me to my feet when the Dark Lord and his three Inner Circle rings were gone. The other I knew by reputation - the woman engaged to Lucius Malfoy, we all knew who she was - but this woman was dark-haired instead of golden-haired, and her hand pulling me up was cold but not indifferent. She studied me, and in the few seconds that her eyes swept mine I felt a cold chill run down my spine and I knew I was being examined. I felt myself stiffen.  
  
I should have been surprised when she introduced herself as Narcissa Black's sister, should have been amazed that there could be such a difference.  
  
"We'll be after the Potters again, I assume," I said quietly, trying to still my shaking limbs.  
  
"Do not assume things of the Dark Lord," she said almost casually, "but yes, when the time comes, we will, and you will not fail him again."  
  
"Never," I responded like lightning. I was still trying to figure out which of the three rings she was in, which he would place her in. She seemed to be more of a judge than a Circle member, though, and so I would have to try my best to look loyal but sharp, and not pathetically loyal, not letting on that I knew what she was doing - but then, she knew that I knew. I had a feeling that she knew everything that went on within the circle.  
  
"I suggest you not let any of the Circle hear you say that," and now she sounded coldly amused. "They might take it as more of a promise than I do, and they don't take well to promises being broken. You will fail him again, Severus. You will fail him, and you will scream for it. But I do not think he will kill you."  
  
"I know that if he kills me, I will have given him sufficient reason." Snape forced his voice to do what he wished it to - and indeed, it did not tremble, nor did it betray his anger at her almost-mocking eyes. But neither did it sound swift and loyal. Perhaps it was convincing enough, though, because the chuckle that he thought was on her lips died at his words.  
  
"Have you ever wished you had not joined the Fold, Severus?"  
  
"Yes," Severus said - and he knew, somehow, that this was the answer she was looking for. Of course he had. And so had she. If he said anything different, he would be lying and she would know it.  
  
She raised a cool eyebrow, obviously impressed with his nerve and insight. "And would you ever consider treason a significant option, in dire circumstances?"  
  
"Treason?" He controlled his face perfectly, smoothed it and made it look confused. "As you know very well, I took an oath when I received the Mark on my arm. I would die before betraying the Dark Lord."  
  
And he found, to his surprise, that for the moment, it was the truth, although perhaps it would not always be.  
  
"Very well," she said, and this time her voice conveyed real emotion - she was impressed, very much so, and surprised, but not displeased. "Well, I have no doubt that you belong in the First Ring of the Circles, Severus. You will Apparate when the Mark burns, not to this spot, but to the place that this Portkey will take you in twenty minutes." She pressed a smoky marble into his black-gloved hand. "For now, you will wait here alone. The Dark Lord and the Heads of each Circle - yes, the Circles have Heads, Severus, don't be foolish - will Apparate here soon, and will speak to you for approximately fifteen minutes. The Dark Lord will activate your Portkey then so that you will know where to go. Do you understand me?"  
  
"Yes," he said, feeling slightly faint. She had said alone - and as he looked around, he realized that all the rest were gone. Unnerved, he wondered when they had all Disapparated.  
  
"Welcome to the Inner Fold, Severus," she said with a very cold smile, and vanished with a very quiet pop. 


End file.
